Wolves Book Fiction Novels & Stories

It lived with me, slept beside me, and sometimes even walked in my reflection. I opened the book I had carried all the way up here… a novel about wolves. Not the kind my father swore were nothing but beasts to be hunted, but the kind that lived in fairy tales and half-remembered myths. Wolves that shifted into men, men who wore hunger in their eyes and shadows in their bones. I traced the words with my fingers, the firelight flickering across the page. How ridiculous, I thought, to romanticize monsters. To imagine them as more than killers. And yet… something in me wanted to believe.

I placed my palms against the cover and let the warmth seep into my skin. I smelled the scent of old books before I looked down. I was staring down at the first page in my own book, reading that ominous warning for the second time. ‘Please don’t let this be too far.’ My wolf murmured in my mind. ‘You’re supposed to be the fearless of the two of us.’ I reminded her quietly. ‘There’s fearlessness, and then there’s stupidity.’ She snarled back, “Wolves are not stupid creatures.’ ‘Nor are you humble.’ I grunted, flipping to the second page of my book.

As I closed the distance, the smell of decay blew my way, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Whoever was on our land was close. Just as I was about to grab Maddie, a scrawny and sickly wolf skidded around the house, foam dripping from its muzzle. My eyes burned as I felt my beast come forward, needing to protect our baby. Maddie stumbled with surprise as I jumped over her head, shifting mid-air into my wolf and colliding with the rogue. I could hear her crying behind me as I bit and clawed at the intruder.

Maybe Gilbert was right; maybe my emotions were clouding my judgment. “What things?” I murmured. Owen hesitated for a moment before replying in an equally low tone. “What do you know about the wolves?” “I’ve heard rumors,” I drawled, my stomach twisting in knots as the true meaning of his words sank in. “That they’re stronger than any other hunter or animal out there.” Owen let out a soft chuckle that sent shivers down my spine. Then he looked me straight in the eyes and said one word: “Worse.”

The armies kept trying and when they were not able to make a scratch at the two beasts, they decided to retreat, but they could not as Iron was already alive, and he was standing by the road, where stood as the only road they were supposed to pass, he stood and forceful pulled out the last arrow by his chest, and just as said by the priest, the arrow wounded his heart, and that turned around and made him love violent always. He was more than a werewolf his eyes were blazing like fire, the little girl now a dragon, had wing, she must have been a dragon before, and many that went toward the exit were burnt by the fire, the warriors tried all they could, but their strength was not enough, and j

"I mean we are in the middle of a heated make out session.. At least that's what I thought... And I'm getting pretty horny here.. But you on the other side ask me about wolves? Is that what you're thinking about while kissing me?" Fuck me! "no... Anzania.. We were kissing and I was so much into it... then you said you have to go to work and then my mind started speeding to the last week and how calm everything has been. It's like the wolves heard us or something and now they aren't attaching." I said trying to cover up the fact that I was still not at ease. This was worrying me. I mean if these wolves were my kind, then they could watch news too as people and turn to wolves at anytime. Which

TRINITY The books Alpha Nader had given me were thicker than I expected, their cracked spines and yellowed pages holding the weight of centuries-old knowledge. Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I carefully turned the pages of the first book, The Myths of the Lunar Wolves, my fingers brushing over the faded ink. The white wolf. Its image was sketched across one of the pages—a regal creature with fur like snow and eyes that burned like molten amber. The description beneath it told of its rarity, its power, and its connection to the moon goddess herself.

Like someone had placed it there for me to find. My fingers curled around the book. I lifted it slowly, carefully opening the cover. There was no title. Just brittle pages covered in faded script and lunar markings. Symbols I didn’t recognise. In the middle of the book, tucked between a page of symbols and another of warnings, I saw it. A story of a wolf with a soul that refused to leave the world of the living. It told of a warrior who died in battle, his body cold, his mate devastated. But she didn’t let go.

“Now.” But it was too late. A growl came from the trees. Then another. Then ten more. Eyes glowed in the dark. Dozens of them. Rogue wolves. Huge. Scarred. Foaming at the mouth. Lycan stepped forward. “This is your only chance. Leave. Or die.” The rogues didn’t speak. They charged. **Rosa’s POV** The fight was chaotic. Snarls. Blood. Claws. I sliced one rogue’s throat, then ducked as another leapt over me.

I said softly, because silence had become too full, “I spent all afternoon in the library trying to prove you aren’t what my brain is trying to make you.” The wolf’s eyes did not leave my face. I laughed once, quietly and without humour. “That’s not a great sign, is it?” He blinked, slow. I leaned back in the chair, staring out at the yard. “I found folklore books. Real ones. Weird ones. Academic ones. And every second page wanted to tell me silver means protection and wolves with unnatural coloured eyes are omens and stories.” The wolf’s ears twitched at the word silver. I noticed. Of course I noticed. My fingers tightened on the arm of the chair.